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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210208">this heart won't settle down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally'>Ethereally</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, F/F, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Sharing a Bed, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:08:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24210208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Ingrid now wears frown lines and battle scars in place of childlike ideals, but there's a polished refinement to the way she swings her weapon, stands her ground. The light behind her eyes has been replaced with a hardened force, and it's the strength of someone who no longer needs to relish her freedom like it won't last. Nobody will snatch it from her any more.</p>
</blockquote><p>

Annette and Ingrid work through abandonment issues and crippling guilt.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annette Fantine Dominic/Ingrid Brandl Galatea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>this heart won't settle down</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There's a vacant feeling by her side where there was once warmth. Annette wakes up with a jolt and throws back the bedcovers, and a paralyzing chill rushes through her body. She's hit with realization: Ingrid is not there, leaving rumpled sheets and a crooked pillow in her absence.</p><p>Annette's heartbeat thumps so loudly it rings through her skull. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself-- Ingrid could have slipped out to the bathroom, or to get a glass of water. She could have decided to take a walk around the monastery to clear her mind. But it doesn't hurt to check. She pops her head into the bathroom; no Ingrid there. She rushes to the kitchen at the other end of the hallway; no luck. Annette bolts back through the second floor, quicker than the gust from a Cutting Gale.</p><p>“Ingrid? Are you still there?”</p><p>Annette hollers into the night, fellow sleeping soldiers be damned. This is foolish and Annette knows it, but she's always been an overthinker, and wartime has done naught but heighten her paranoia. Her heart and legs race far faster than her rational mind, and she continues through the hallway, pausing at the top of the grand staircase leading to the dorms' courtyard. Annette's voice sounds pathetic, childlike as she calls out once again. </p><p>“Ingrid? Ingrid?”</p><p>Every ounce of common sense within Annette shrieks, <i>You're overthinking, she's probably just outside, go back to sleep</i>. But her fear shouts louder than prudence, and Annette thunders down the stairs, blasting through the doorway and sprinting through the lawn. A lithe, muscled figure lies in the grass, staring into the starless night. Relief washes through Annette, enveloping her like a warm blanket.</p><p>Annette thinks back to the first time she met Ingrid: all split ends and rough edges, stomping around the monastery like a child let loose in a playpen. She remembers how Ingrid fought in the training grounds, grinning wildly as she spun her lance, braid bouncing in the air with unbridled zeal; how she'd laughed heartily as she raced the boys to the dining hall, fast and strong like lightning. She recalls how sad Ingrid's smile had been that fateful day when she'd told Annette she was to be married off. How she'd felt when Ingrid mentioned that she hadn't cut her hair since her fiancee died, in remembrance of him-- and then how, five years later, she'd returned to the monastery to see Ingrid's golden tresses cut into a short bob.</p><p>This new Ingrid wears frown lines and battle scars in place of childlike ideals, but there's a polished refinement to the way she swings her weapon, stands her ground. The light behind her eyes has been replaced with a hardened force, and it's the strength, Annette soon realized, of someone who no longer needs to relish her freedom like it won't last. Nobody will snatch it from her any more.</p><p>It's this Ingrid that's lying in the courtyard, bathing in cold moonlight and staring out into the sky. Annette takes a step closer, and she's still shaking when Ingrid turns around to face her. Her lips part, and she realizes they're both wearing mirrored, wide-eyed looks of terror. Annette should have known to announce her arrival given how skittish they've both been since the war's begun.</p><p>She stumbles back, an apology starting to form on her lips. More of the usual-- <i>I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, I won't do it again</i>-- but she's interrupted by Ingrid's expression softening into a smile. She taps the space next to her on the ground.</p><p>“Will you join me, Annette?”</p><p>Annette sucks in a deep breath. Normally, she would frown at the idea of sitting in the grass; the dirt stains would take forever to wash out from her new nightgown. But there's something strangely inviting about the smell of fresh soil and recent rain, and besides, she thought for a split second that she'd lost Ingrid forever. Even if it was for just a few minutes, the sheer panic that came with the thought had been enough to consume her. Perhaps the last vestiges of irrationality still linger. Annette smooths out her skirt, taking a seat next to Ingrid. Her partner inches closer towards her.</p><p>“Are you all right? You seem...” Ingrid's brows knot. “You seem shaken.”</p><p>“I'm-- I'm fine,” Annette says. She desperately wishes that she could slow her racing heartbeat. Ingrid sits up, pulling her legs towards her chest. She reaches her hand out to squeeze Annette's, fingers tracing burn marks and lingering scars from the war. Annette nods. “I'm fine, really.”</p><p>“You don't have to pretend around me,” Ingrid murmurs. “It's just us out here. Will you please be honest?”</p><p>Annette turns away, averting Ingrid's gaze. Their fingers are still laced together perfectly, like they were made for each other. “I,” she stutters, “I thought... I thought that you were gone.”</p><p>Ingrid leans down, pressing a soft kiss on Annette's lips. She smells like mint toothpaste and the citrusy freshness of her soap, and even the lightest of touches is enough to temporarily quell Annette's racing thoughts. It's no wonder that Annette grabs Ingrid's other hand, shoving their lips together. The tighter she grips her the more Ingrid feels solid and <i>real</i>. Some days, Annette can't be certain that Ingrid's love for her isn't a hazy fever dream. It helps to have Ingrid prove it, and she deepens the kiss, as though she can read Annette's thoughts.</p><p>After what feels like mere seconds, Ingrid pulls away from the kiss, though they're both flushed red and Ingrid panting for breath. They must have been kissing for longer. Annette glances down at their entwined fingers and decides she can't be the first to let go, even if her hand feels cramped and sticky from the prolonged grip. Ingrid smiles.</p><p>“I'm here,” she says, loosening her hold on one hand and reaching out to brush Annette's cheek. “I'm still here.”</p><p>“I'm sorry,” Annette manages to stutter. “I woke up and you weren't there, so I--”</p><p>“What did I say about apologizing when you haven't done anything wrong?”</p><p>“I--” Before Annette can justify herself, Ingrid reaches out, placing a finger on Annette's lips. She smiles, and it's only then when Annette notices the stiffness of Ingrid's nose, and the red, puffy rings around her eyes. Guilt stabs through Annette now, cold and hollow, a creeping feeling that flows through her stomach and hits her in the chest. She was so mired in her own misery that she scarcely noticed that Ingrid was struggling too, and the thought is almost enough to make her sick. Annette grabs Ingrid by the wrist and yanks the finger from her mouth.</p><p>“Were <i>you</i> crying?”</p><p>“I--” Ingrid flushes. “No--”</p><p>She's never been a good liar. Annette mentally counts the seconds until she breaks, <i>one, two</i>--</p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>The timing would be almost comedic if Ingrid didn't look so distraught-- dark circles, knotted brow, her hand that's still holding Annette's starting to shake. Now it's Annette's turn to pull her in closer, pressing a soft kiss on her cheek.</p><p>“I'm sorry,” she begins, “I should have noticed earlier--”</p><p>“Please don't apologize,” Ingrid says, pulling away from the kiss. She leans in to tuck a lock of ginger hair behind Annette's ear. “You don't need to be sorry. You were distraught as well.”</p><p>“D- do you want to talk about it?” Annette asks, her voice a harried breath, her heart racing with anxiety. She'd failed Ingrid, she'd failed their relationship, she'd failed herself. Worst of all, she must be so self-centered to be looking at her girlfriend's tear-stained face and to think of herself in the process, but she knows actions speak louder than words. Annette squeezes Ingrid's hand once more, bumping their noses together. Ingrid shakes her head.</p><p>“I don't know... I don't know if there's anything that can be talked about, Ann.” The rarely-used nickname falls from her lips, and a twang of fondness tugs at Annette's chest despite herself. “I just-- I've been thinking about the past a lot.”</p><p>“Ah.”</p><p>Ingrid doesn't have to say much more. Edelgard's crusade against Crests and Lady Rhea rages on, and it's undeniable that she and Ingrid will be instrumental in shaping a better Fódlan if they win. Yet the grief that came with betraying their countries and turning their backs on everyone they once loved still ebbs through both of them, beating through their bodies with every pulse. Sometimes, Annette wonders if Ingrid only fell in love with her because of familiarity, the knowledge that she too was someone who once called Faerghus home. She's not sure that she wants to know the answer.</p><p>Faerghan culture dictates that they act upon what is noble and what is right. Annette's never doubted the moral truth that belied her actions, from the moment she fled with the rest of the Black Eagles from the Holy Tomb to the moment she watched her former king go up in incandescent flames. Yet just because she's been driven by righteousness didn't mean that her deeds are virtuous in themselves: morality speaks nothing of anger, of hurt, of the screams of her former friends as the life is taken from their eyes.</p><p>They've had this conversation again and again, hashed and rehashed every point in it, talked in so many circles that it leaves both their heads spinning. Ingrid's too considerate to say as much when Annette is also upset, but she suspects that Ingrid might want to be left alone. Annette finally lets go of Ingrid. She scrambles onto her feet, smoothing out her nightdress, and a small smile creeps onto her lips, one warmer and braver than Annette has ever dared to be.</p><p>“Should I... Should I leave you alone?”</p><p>“A- are you sure?” Ingrid mutters, though she hasn't budged from where she's sitting. Annette nods.</p><p>“I am. Sorry, by the way,” she says. “For freaking out on you.”</p><p>Ingrid pouts, sticking out her lower lip ever-so-slightly. “Please don't apologize.”</p><p>Annette sighs, “You're right.” Old habits really do die hard. Nerves begin to ball up in the pit of her stomach again, and she grits her teeth, trying to push away her racing thoughts. Ingrid turns up to meet her gaze.</p><p>“I promise I'll be back soon. You'll have to trust me, all right?”</p><p>Her words don't melt the nerves away completely, but Annette does feel the bubbling acid in her gut settle just a little. She nods, bending down to give Ingrid's nose a gentle kiss.</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>Annette strolls back to the stairs before casting Ingrid one last glance. She really does look lovely, dressed in a loose shirt and men's boxers, bathed in the light of the full moon. Annette could watch her forever. She knows that Ingrid needs her solitude, though; it doesn't mean Annette isn't a good girlfriend, or one who's unworthy of love. With that, she turns around, scaling the stairs to the top floor two at a time.</p><p>She falls into bed and sleep washes over her, warm and overwhelming like waves at the seaside. Annette dreams of peace, soft kisses, and a world where she doesn't have to fight any more, where she and Ingrid can stay up all night in bed, laughing. </p><p>Light pours in through the window, and Annette wakes up the next morning to find her love there. Ingrid shifts in her sleep, chest rising and falling as she dreams. Annette pulls herself closer to her and plants a kiss on her forehead. Ingrid's eyes flutter open.</p><p>"Told you I'd be back," she says, a smile creeping onto her lips. She pulls Annette in, capturing her lips with a soft kiss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you <a href="http://www.twitter.com/jireemblem">j</a> for helping me workshop this, and for supplying me with the annegrid brainworms! </p><p>i'm on twitter @gautired, and feel free to <a href="https://twitter.com/gautired/status/1261508237351727104">rt</a> this fic if you enjoyed it.</p><p>UPDATE: holy shit there are not one but TWO arts by <a href="https://twitter.com/jireemblem/status/1264441829472100354?s=21">j</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/shenyun5000/status/1271631735269146624">reuben</a>??</p></blockquote></div></div>
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